Untitled
by GryffindorSlavePoof
Summary: Harry is Portkeyed out of a Quidditch game when he catches the Snitch. Rated MA for violence and sexual content, and probably language.
1. Chapter 1

**This story is temporarily untitled**

**_Disclaimer: I own nothing... my life sucks... poor, poor me..._**

It was just a game against Hufflepuff; Harry could relax slightly while in the air and laugh because the opposition's Seeker was having trouble staying on his broom. He smiled and glanced around the pitch for the Snitch. He wasn't trying too hard because well, when was the last time Hufflepuff beat anyone at Quidditch? Several uneventful minutes into the game and Gryffindor was up 70 against a feeble 0. Last year with no Quidditch must have really hurt the Hufflepuff team. They were bad, but never this bad.

Harry surveyed the sky looking for the Snitch. Once again nothing. He did some show-y stunts to lessen the tedium of the game, but then he saw it; it was flying near the highest ring of the Gryffindor goals, so he was off. Humid October air began to rush through his hair he sped up and reached out for the small shining ball. The other Seeker must have finally gotten ahold of their broomstick and was tailing him. Dodging players and Bludgers, Harry was almost there. Stretching his fingers, Harry grasped the ball. His smiled widened and he examined his prize, a nauseous pull at his stomach, and he thought he was falling. The world seemed to be spinning around him; he closed his eyes and awaited impact feeling slightly detached.

His world was out of proportion, he didn't know what was going on anymore, everything was still spinning madly, and he thought he would have hit the ground by now. Suddenly, without warning the world righted itself, and Harry stumbled on to a floor. Shaking himself of some dizziness, he examined his surroundings with confusion. He stood in a shadowed room that smelled of mold and the floor was damp. Weak light crept in through a small window high up on one of the walls. Harry opened up his hand and stared in shock at the small golden Snitch curled up in his palm. He scoffed at the sheer irony of it, once again Portkeyed to some sinister place most likely for a less than friendly reason.

Suddenly, from behind him, fingers were running down his arm and he could feel warm breath on is neck as he cringed.

"Harry Potter," a voice drawled roughly, but with amusement, "Wherever are your manners?"

Back at Hogwarts: during the Quidditch match

People were glancing around in horror, Harry Potter, savior of the Wizarding world, had just disappeared into thin air. People were standing and looking around in the near to eerie silence; next followed frantic hushed whispers along with a very angry red head whom was shouting obscenities while a bushy haired Hermione attempted to calm him.

"What the hell does he think he is doing? Going around, disappearing all over the place! The sodding poof! Really, who the bloody hell does he think he is?", the red head shouted, ignoring the stares he was getting, and continued cursing his missing friend.

"Oh I bet he will get the front page for this one. 'Boy-Who-Vanished'. Attention-seeking git! I can just see it now: 'Tragically during a Hogwarts Quidditch game, The Boy-Who-Took-It-Up-The-Ass disappeared. He is suspected to have been abducted by Death Eaters. Let us all hold candles of vigil and hope, because we know they can't kill The Boy-Who-Lived. Let's hope they don't all rape him or at least that the women don't."

Draco Malfoy watched from near by and laughed at the Weasel's antics, though he himself wondered where the boy had gone. But soon enough he would know, he thought, because after all, his father was in the Inner Circle.

For the school, life continued almost the same as before, just now a certain famous bugger was missing, and everyone had conspiracy theories concerning that bugger. Snape was almost joyous with his most despised pupil missing. Several students had even reported to the infirmary claiming they had been hallucinating after seeing him whistling in the hallways. Professor Lupin, who had come back to teach again was worrying himself into a coma. He was forgetting things, he didn't appear to be sleeping, often he could be found sitting at his deask with his head in his hands muttering to himself. McGonnagal was even beginning to behave strangely. She seemed to be out of focus. Whole classes even reported that during several transformations, she had finished still sporting a nice set of whiskers. Of course, every day Trelawny was saying something like, "I can see Harry meeting a gruesome death!" and, "Oh, the dark times are upon us! The savior is gone!". With each passing day, her "inner eye" was coming up with more extreme exclamations. The more out of the ordinary included, "Just last night, I witnessed our Harry being mauled by an overgrown mutated Flobberworm."

The remains of the Golden Trio were more of a mess then anyone. Ron, who appeared to be doing fine when the subject was ignored would explode when anything remotely Harry Potter-esque was mentioned. Hermionie was always in the library researching possible leads. The most bizarre reaction was most likely that of the youngest Weasley who would begin bawling manically as much as her older brother would scream. Draco concluded that the whole lot of them were mad; the Gryffindors that is. While Slytherin House was having a Potter-Is-Missing-Yay-The-Prat-Is-Gone party, they were sulking, plotting, crying , puzzling; thus solidifying Draco's thesis. Neville, being a huge loser before, had some how magically deteriorated his self-esteem past negative. The Weasley twins couldn't figure what to do, partly set on brightening up the atmosphere with new crazy products, and partly set on kidnapping suspects and interrogating them rather harshly. Most of the time they settled on smuggling in "better" butterbeer and seeing what happened next. This led to quite a few peculiar explanations.

But overall as time went on, people grew worried. Headlines became The-Boy-Who-Lived-Once?", and "Savior gone?" Christmas holidays arrived and students went home to their parents, still not knowing where their Golden Boy had gone.

Draco had not heard from his father where Saint Potter had gone, not even after all of his excessive pleading and begging. He was going to try a new approach when he arrived home - bribing. He could not bribe with much, for his Father had nearly everything, so he would have to use information. Though what information he had, he wasn't sure. Actually since some time before the savior's disappearence, Draco had been debating with himself about his position in the oncoming war. He was pretty sure that the triumphant side would be that of Harry and Dumbledore, but with Harry missing, his resolve on switching allies had been shaken. He figured while he was home he would try to obtain more information so that he could make a final decision.

His house was immaculate and soundless as usual when the front doors opened and Draco was ushered in by one of the cleaner house elves. He wasn't greeted, for with family formality along with interaction was as scarce as scarce could be. His polished shoes tapping against the mahogany floor were the only sound as he slowly made his way up to his rooms. Everything was as he remembered it; quite possibly endless wooden floors that shined without flaw, cold, unfeeling family portraits hung here and there, perfectly arranged clutter that if moved out of place migrated back on its own, and everything that could clearly state "We're filthy rich and you'll never compare to us." The foyer opened up allowing view to several of the many floors of the monstrous home with a double staircase leading up from either side of the room. To either side ornately carven French doors depicting the most obvious; snakes, which opened to sitting rooms, the east wing for family guests, and the west for Draco's mother. At the end of the long room were two very large doors similar to the others in the room that led to his father's rooms. The room itself had a ridiculously high vaulted ceiling that was like the one of Hogwarts' Great Hall, only the Malfoy's always displayed a clear, starry night. In the middle of the room, glittering, was an enormous chandelier floating weightlessly above everyone's heads. The chandelier itself was silver and crystal, hundreds of thousents of tiny faceted stones reflected soft candlelight, giving everyone in the room the feeling that not only the sky above them was filled with stars, but that they themselves were standing somewhere in the Heavens.

Not all too awed having seen the room hundreds of times, Draco climbed up the staircase that would take him to his floor. Each living Malfoy had their own floor, instead of their own room, because of course this was a much more luxerious way of living. His bedroom was on the back wall of the manor, allowing a magestic view of the gardens. Draco secretly loved the gardens. WIth all of his things already delivered, he fell onto his bed and let sleep claim him.

END CHAPTER ONE

_Thanks to my amazing fiance, who beta'd this for me. All you readers have to clap now...Oh and review lots...please? begs_


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: OK, I don't own any of this… I wish I owned it, if I did then I could move to Canada and buy myself lots of panties. But sadly I can't stake a claim on any of this unless I want my arse carted off to nasty infringement land.

Warning: SLASHY SLASH SLASH! CAUTION HOMO-NESS PRESENT lots of Hufflepuff bashing, because I don't like the Hufflepuffs, (please excuse my house-ism), umm pretty blonde men, fluffy cuteness, ugly scary tall guys who look like snakes, annoyingly twinkly old men, plus so much more. Eventually it will be all angsty so you tissue hogging crying fan girls like me, pull out your boxes and prepare yourselves (because I will try my hardest), there will be cuddly happy fluff (so anyone who is sickened by this lovey dovey stuff I apologize), and eventually a lot of yummy Draco/Harry goodness. Oh and beware of the spoilers, but really, if you haven't read the 4th book yet, I command you to jump to it, it's my favorite of the series and if you're reading my story instead of it I'm honored but truly it's a terrible shame (on you of course).

Summary: uhh… I'm not good with summaries… plus they give everything away. So just read it…

A/N: OMG I have reviews! This is amazing. I never believed I would get reviews… I didn't figure anyone would actually read it. When my fiancé (who is working as the liaison between me and the internet) told me that I had reviews and bookmarks and hits, I'm pretty sure all of my organs collapsed. I love that people are reading this (I'm also a little nervous) and I'm excited that you like it. I will work harder to write more and more. And please keep reviewing I value input and comments make me absolutely giddy. And I'd also like to say that we should all hail my fantastic Beta whom fixes my grammar (because I type like mad, and make more mistakes then I make words) and posts this for me.

**CHAPTER 2**

Draco usually dreamt of Quidditch, Quidditch players, broomsticks, the family attorney's son… _mostly_ normal things that teenage boys dream about every day. Tonight was different. As Draco drifted to sleep his dreams were as usual, but something new was there. A small almost unnoticeable voice filled with dread was begging for help, for rescue, and to just die. Noticing this difference, he began searching his dream trying to find the source of these pleas, but as he searched his surroundings faded away leaving him in empty blackness along with the voice.

In the morning, Draco always woke feeling un-rested and anxious; he didn't understand this new twist to his dreams and it was rather disturbing. But these dreams continued; every night there he was in the midst of enjoying some elaborate fantasy when the desperate cries began. Every night the voice seemed to get closer, louder, but never could he locate the source.

The seventh night, the cries turned to screams and shrill heart wrenching yells. Scouring the darkness for the poor being who emitted these shrieks, Draco tried in vain to pry his eyes open further in attempt to see better, only pulling himself into consciousness. As he sat up in bed, he noticed the screams were not in his dreams alone. Somewhere below him was the pitiful soul who sobbed nightly in Draco's dreams.

Calling a house elf he sat up and pulled his sheets around him. He grabbed his wand off the night stand and muttered a spell, causing the lights to flicker to life. He planned to deal with this now instead of losing anymore sleep over some voice somewhere. When the elf arrived, Draco ordered it to lay out an outfit for him as he showered and did his hair, because Malfoys do not go on adventures with bed hair.

"Young master Draco is not goin' to see the pris'ner is her?" Mipsy, had been much like Draco's nurse when he had been smaller, she was brought in specifically for that purpose, she was a tiny thing, much much more ear then elf and timid as can be.

"Depends on if the prisoner is who is making all this racket. Merlin, whoever it is sounds as if they're being killed."

A realization hit him as Mipsy went on. " Oh, they is not killin' 'im sirs, they is never killin' 'im."

"My father is down there isn't he? He is the one doing this ?" Draco's face became cold and angry as he pictured his father torturing some helpless Muggle.

"They is bein' gone in the morning, you can be goin' down then master." The tiny elf then disappeared with a dramatic flap of her ears.

In defeat, Draco collapsed on his bed; the image of his father casting the Cruciatus pictured clearly in his mind. He could clearly imagine Lucius' scowl turn maniacally into a satisfied smirk as his victim writhed in pain, how he would most likely throw his head backwards in laughter as he listened to their incoherent begging. Mortified, because of his relation to his monster of a father, Draco sat staring out his window waiting for sunrise, while he pondered his allegiance. If he were to remain with his father, and in effect with the Dark Lord, he would be willingly sacrificed for their cause or when Voldemort fell he would be thrown into Azkaban if not killed in battle. But if he turned to the side of the light, Moody might want to keep him as his personal ferret, he might be sacrificed anyway, and they might ask him to work as a spy, which endangered him even further. The only plus to either side was that if Dumbledore was triumphant, as he suspected the case would be, he would be spared.

It must have been hours later when Draco was disturbed again. The screams had died down, and light poured into his room. Mipsy cautiously approached him.

"They isn't here no more, I is bring'in an note from the masters." She handed him a crisp envelope as if it contained her very life.

He examined it, finding the usual family crest in a wax seal on the back still warm. Breaking the seal, he unfolded the smooth green paper, and it read in bright silver letters;

_Draco,_

_Though it is during the Yule holidays, I and your mother have business to attend to. I do not expect you to be saddened because of this, for we've spent many a holiday apart. We will be home when the matters at hand have been dealt with. Our return may very well be after your return to Hogwarts, so do not hesitate, as I know you will not, to take command during your stay. _

_-Your father_

Lucius Malfoy

Draco sighed, even in letters his father was a cold, unloving bastard. Sadly, he didn't believe in making political decisions upon personal feelings, otherwise he would have switched long ago.

**In the dungeons **

A smaller boy sat huddled in a corner. The room smelt of blood both dried and fresh. His pale skin marred with bruises and cuts, he crouched trying to keep warm. The dungeons were cold, and he had lost track of time. He had given up hope; early on he had accepted that no one was going to find him. Now he had been down here in the middle of Merlin-knows-where, and it felt like he was in Hell. What was more, he didn't even know if wizards believed in Hell. Lucius kept coming to see him, so he knew he wasn't in Hell, or what ever it was called in the Wizarding World, unless the Malfoys were connected between the outside world and this place. When the light from his miniscule window dimmed, every night the Death Eaters would arrive and they would torture him to make sure he knew how filthy and defiled he was. The Dark Lord didn't want to kill him anymore, no he wanted him completely broken, Harry thought it maybe was a power thing. But if it was or not didn't really matter because what ever it was it seemed to be working.

In last session, he had given in and let them hear his screams. His screams of pain and sorrow. He let go of every last shred of hope he had been attempting to hold onto that night. He belonged completely these bastards now. They owned him, and it even said so on his chest. Lucius himself had marked him for his. Had taken his wand and burned the name 'Malfoy' into his flesh. The farking sadist had then claimed him, roughly, in front of all of them, as they laughed and scorned his anguish.

Then in a sing song voice Lucius had left saying, "Now be good for me _darling._ I'll be back later. I have a present for you before I leave though," he had then pulled a thick book out of his cloak which had been lying across the room.

The book was shiny and black, the corners looks sharp, Lucuis looked at in the dim morning light then approached Harry's broken form.

"Now give me a kiss before I go."

When Harry didn't move to obey him, Lucius roughly grasped his face and pulled it up to his own, and kissed him harshly, bruising his already bleeding lips. When he was finished, he thrust harry's face away and brought the book up to look again. With a sinister smirk, he swung the book towards harry's head ruthlessly.

"_Never_ disobey me."

He began to walk away, all the other Death Eaters had disapparated by now, and just outside of Harry's cell Lucius stopped. In a commanding tone he said, "Write in it. I want a record of all your misery. I'll read it to my grandchildren. There is a quill inside, write with your blood, seeing as you've gotten it all over my nice floor."

_Note from the Magic Beta: The story should be updated about every Thursday or Friday. The title is still pending because the author is indecisive. :P_


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: I own nothing… I suck… don't sue me please

WARNING: SLASHY SLASH SLASH SLASH

Summary: Just read it…ok if you read the first two chapters (which I suggest doing if you haven't) then this is CHAPTER THREE woohoo bet you didn't know that, huh?

A/N: I have reviews I want more reviews. You want more story… so we compromise.. more reviews longer chapters, deal?

I'd reply to my reviews right now… but I can't find the names… cause the internet hates me… that's why I use someone else to post this… so lets just leave it at I LOVE YOU MY AMAZING REVIEWERS AND WHEN I TAKE OVER THE WORLD YOU WILL BE SPARED YOU'VE DONE MAGIC THINGS TO MY EGO WHICH WAS INCREDIBLY SMALL MUCH LIKE NEVILLE'S OH I LOVE YOU AND I LOVE MY BETA TO SHE IS THE MOST AMAZING WONDERFUL PERSON ON THE PLANET 3 3 3 3 3

Harry had learned while living with the Dursleys that doing as one is told is easier before punishment in comparison to afterward. When Lucius had told him to write in the journal Harry made plans to do so.

Picking up the sleek black book, he recognized the ornate silver Malfoy family crest on the cover. There was a black ribbon holding it shut. He undid the bow and opened it up, and as Lucius had told him, there was a quill inside. Like the book, the long quill reeked of expense. When Lucius had stuck him with the book the corner had slashed his cheek open and the blood was generously flowing down his face. Gently the book was set down, as if it should be treated with respect, and Harry raised a hand to his cheek allowing blood to pool in his palm. With his right, he dipped the quill and began to write. The words were slow at first, not sure what Lucius would enjoy hearing. Giving into himself, he allowed his sentances to become the story of his life up until this point. He expressed the hatred of the Dursleys, how his life was just a long chain of events that everyone else put together, Cedirc dying, Ron finding out his secret… showing up here, Lucius, Death Eaters, Lucius….

He was so submerged in his writing that he didn't notice the footsteps that were approaching his cell.

Draco held his wand, lighting his way through the dungeon as he searched for his father's victim. The entire place was musty and rather wet. He was quite sure that mold must be growing somewhere. There was very little light apart from the Lumos he had cast, so searching was difficult. After several minutes of walking a slight scratching noise could be heard, like someone writing. It was very faint and difficult to follow, but he kept walking and the scratching became louder and more discernable. A smile of triumph graced his lips when he found the source; a small bloodied person was hunched over a book scratching away at the parchment.

At first he stayed silent and watched the figure. He was guessing that the person was a boy. Something about him was… well he wasn't sure what it was… but it was something. He racked his mind trying to think why this boy might have struck something in his head. For awhile he stood there, watching, pondering, observing. Without paying attention he had allowed his hand to go lax, and his wand was slipping through his fingers. The movement, and the clattering of Draco's wand alerted the boy, which caused him to jump backwards away from Draco.

Draco recognized the boy quickly. There was no mistaking those luminous green eyes, and he didn't know how he had missed the matted black hair. They stared at one another, the gaze being broken, when Draco's eyes snapped to the book lying abandoned on the floor. The crest, easier to distinguish than Harry Potter. Draco spoke immediately, "What are you doing with Malfoy property, you nasty little golden boy?" Draco retrieved his wand, "And you know, you don't seem so _golden _now do you? No, you look rather tarnished. So what'd they do to you? I heard it all you know. Up in my room at night", he walked the length of the cell and back examining the prisoner, "couldn't sleep because of your pitiful cries."

Harry, traumatized already, said nothing and watched Draco fearfully.

"You know its pretty pathetic that the great Harry Potter sobs and begs for mercy at the feet of the Death Eaters now. Are you missing your friends, Potter? Well, they haven't saved you yet have they? They're probably partying in Gryffindor still. It's almost Christmas you know. I bet they're all sitting around talking about how much better it is with you gone." Draco wasn't sure where all of this was coming from anymore, he never had been sure. Why did he always belittle this boy, whom had never done anything of any signifigance to him?

Still, Harry remained silent, huddling frightfully in the corner, his knees pulled up to this chest, staring into Draco's face without change. His eyes were wide and unblinking, as if he was stunned by Draco's presence. Harry was trembling all over, shivering as if he were freezing. White knuckles clutched his filthy ragged pants and held his knees to his chest. He was the epitome of pitifulness. The cut on his cheek had began to close up. Sticky, crimson blood covered that side of his face.

"What is it you've got here anyway? I heard you writing in it, and that's how I found you." He cast a unlocking charm on the door of Harry's cell and went to get the book. As his wand imluminated the floor around him, he noticed to his horror the blood that was all over. He leaned over, recovered the book, and inspected it confirming that Malfoy crest on the front. "So what were you doing with this, hmm?" He flipped it open to the first page, and gaped at the bright red writing. "I asked you what you were doing with this." Draco took a step toward his former nemesis.

Harry flinched as Draco took that step, and pulled himself into a tighter ball awaiting even more horrible torture.

Draco looked taken aback when the boy assumed that he would hurt him. He froze in place, "I'm not going to hurt you," his voice was more calm, and no longer held a hint of insult or sarcasm. Silence hung in the air, stagnantly like the smell of death that inhabited the dungeons. Realizing what he had said, he began backing away from Dumbledore's chosen one. Upon reaching the bars; he swung the door closed and ran. He didn't want Harry or anyone else to realize he might not be completely loyal to the Death Eaters until he made his final decision. He had made a mistake, and Malfoys never make mistakes. It had been stupid Gryffindor-thinking that had led him to speaking what he had been thinking before contemplating what it would express.

He exited the dungeons at full speed, running up stairs and bursting through doors, his room the final destination. After reaching his room he slammed his door and slumped down against it, breathing hard and in denial of what he had just said. Several minutes passed and he didn't move from the floor. Deciding it wasn't fiiting for Malfoys to sit around on the floor, even if his floor was exceptionally clean, he stood and swept imaginary dust from his pants realizing he still held the book from Harry's cell.

A/N: So you want more story hmmm? WELL REVIEW MORE YOU LAZY READERS …. Ummm I'm greedy I guess… oh and I'm sorry.. but I'm struggling to write cause my computer crashed so I'm relying on the kindness of my grandparents to type this… plus finals.. and reviewing EVERYTHING and stressing… so be thankful you get anything


	4. Chapter 4

Disclaimer: I own nothing… pouts

Warning: Hufflepuff bashing… somewhere in here there is insane McGonagall-ness … unmm I believe I have some slash coming up soon… maybe… -

Chapter 4

Shortly after Draco fled the dungeons, sweet sleep claimed the fatigued golden boy. He slept huddled in a damp corner, bloodied and bruised, his last thoughts being of hopelessness.

Several floors up, Draco turned the book over and over in his hands, admiring the simple but elegant design. He fingered the metal embellishments that graced the corners; they came to a point that with little difficulty could slice one's hands to bits. He figured that they had already served this purpose for one of the upper corners was covered in a sticky red substance that he would have bet anything was blood.

A pecking noise at the window caught his attention, and the book was discarded onto a near by table. Across the room, the pecking continued. Draco opened the window and a very perturbed looking owl flew inside, causing him to duck in order to avoid being hit. Landing haughtily on the back of a chair, the owl extended its leg presenting an equally stuffy looking letter.

Like his father's, the envelope was sealed with wax, but instead of a family emblem there simply was an 'x'. The paper was black, so much so that his pale hands seemed to glow next to it. He broke the seal and unfolded the letter. For a moment the page was blank and his eyes scanned over it twice before noticing opalescent white letters unfurling themselves across the page. The script was sloppy and didn't do the ink justice but wrote out a message none the less.

Draco Malfoy,

Information is power, both of us are well aware of that fact. While I know many many things about you, I am nothing more than letters on a page to your knowledge, so let's agree I have the upper hand here. Your father is away, leisure, business, grocery errands? Whichever it may be he'll be missing some excitement, which will leave you all alone for a little visit from some friends of mine. You'll have a big decision to make; convert, or die. Your choice, and from what I hear you'll choose well.

See you soon,

-X

The note was not signed other then X. He read it again before crumpling it up and destroying it with an Incendio. Draco was fuming; what the hell was this. Did someone already know about what he'd said? His mind was in a twick, whirling rapidly. _Of course father was having the dungeons monitored, some one knows. _

The House Elves had no information for Draco about who might have heard, and knew nothing of where the owl might have come from. He scoured the house after that for hours; searching for hidden surveilance of some sort. At one point he had even gone back to the dungeon to see if he could find anything there. The blackness won out though, all he found was Harry curled up and asleep. Spurred on by curiosity, he continued well into the night. Complete and unwavering exhaustion was what he received a hundred fold as payment for his labors. This lack of energy was what caused him to trudge back up to his room and give up for the time being, sleep soon claimed him. That night Harry's screams were absent.

Many miles away and several short hours later Lucius Malfoy was receiving a letter.

Lucius Malfoy,

_I have been informed from an inside source that a search of your house that will soon take place. In order to preserve your innocence and possessions I advise you to apparate home immediately, I will explain later._

-Severus.

As suggested Lucius promptly collected his wife and left for home without delay. They arrived home in a flurry. He ordered Narcissa to hide the more incriminating objects while he took care of Draco and his special project.

Draco was awoken with a start when his father burst into his room and began shouting out plans.

"Draco, I need you to wake up right now. Our home is soon to be searched. Take everything you don't wish discovered. Go down to the dungeons. Are you listening Draco-"

Rubbing the sleep out of his eyes, groggily, Draco broke into his fathers on going speech, "Yes father."

But, Lucius continued on as if he hadn't asked a question, "You will find _a boy_ down there-" he roughly grabbed at Draco's shirt while talking, and pulled it forward. "- He's in a cell on the back wall on the west side-" A necklace was pulled from inside Draco's shirt and grasped forcefully. "-this will take you to the outer grounds of Hogwarts-" Lucius withdrew his wand and without wasting time to carefully handle the fragile pendant practically shouted out a spell. "Take the boy with you. Tell whomever you meet that you rescued him. They will inquire as to where, I want you to make something up. The Portkey will be activated with your house name; I don't know how much time you have." With that, Lucius stood and began running, or more, briskly walking, toward the door. "Hurry!" he shouted as he left the room.

Draco blinked a few times in shock, not entirely believing any of that had just happened. But his shirt was still disheveled and his necklace was pulled out. He lifted the small silver charm and smiled in memory as he examined it. He noticed surprisingly that he was still in his clothing from yesterday, and he glanced around the room trying to recall his father's directions, "-Take everything you don't wish discovered-." His eyes landed on the book he had taken from Harry, he grabbed it and a winter cloak, his bags still packed from school, he shurnk them and stuffed them in his pocket, then began sprinting rather clumsily toward the dungeons.

Outside of his room the whole of the house was frantic; House Elves scurrying everywhere, his father shouting orders and spells, and his mother shrieking at the poor little elves who weren't working to her satisfaction. Draco made it into the dungeons without trouble though, and this time when he went in search of his father's prisoner he knew where to go, which significantly cut down on the time it took to find him.

The stone floor was still slick with something he couldn't identify. Harry was still curled, in a way that Draco guessed to be quite uncomfotable, in a tight ball in the corner.

With practiced ease, Draco pulled his wand from its pocket within his cloak and unlocked the barred entrance to the cell. He stepped into the still, blood bathed room, then lit his wand and crossed to the boy. As he crouched down next to him he could see how battered Harry truly was; it was rather horrifying in all honesty.

When Draco grabbed ahold of his arm, Harry didn't stir. When Draco pulled out his necklace and whispered, "Slytherin," Harry didn't so much as flinch. When the Portkey activated and they landed in front of Hogwarts Harry hit the ground with an ominous _thud,_ but didn't move.

He no longer lay in a small curled up ball, but on his back with a purpley bruised face to the sky; eyes closed and his mouth open slightly. After Draco straightened himself and took notice of his surroundings he saw Potter, and he'd never seen the boy like this before. He was broken, helpless, and it worried Draco. Where was the defiant strong adversary from several months ago? He became aware of Harry's lack of movement and became even more concerned, if this was his only chance of escaping the wrath of the Dark Lord, he wasn't about to let it die out here in the snow.

From the Headmasters office, a reserved old woman with rectangular glasses and a long, pointed nose began throwing a fit. "Oh my lord, Albus, do you see this? Two people just landed just off grounds, ALBUS!" Minerva McGonagall spilled tea down her front.

Calmly with a wry smile Dumbledore replied, "Yes, I know."

"How can you know? You can't see out the window!" She was screeching as if these people were in violation of everything she stood for, "We don't even know who they are! Aren't you worried?"

"No."

She then rounded on him, "No! No? We could be under attack! Don't just sit there!" She waved her arms frantically trying to get her point across.

"Settle down Minerva. It's just young Mister Potter and young Mister Malfoy; Nothing to worry about. Severus and Poppy are waiting for them at the entrance."

"Potter! Albus Dumbledore, have you gone mad? What would Harry and a Malfoy be doing together?" She was nearly standing on top of the old man now; staring down at him looking as angry as Snape was greasy.

"Really Minerva, we aren't under attack, we have nothing to worry about." He then continued with a smirk and a twinkle in his eyes, "Also, please allow me to reassure you, Harry has much to do with Draco Malfoy."

"Oh my goodness Albus, ALBUS, I think he's carrying Harry-"

"That would make sense, seeing as they both just came from Malfoy manor."

In a voice that was very reminiscent to a squawking bird she exclaimed, "WHAT?"

END CHAPTER FOUR


	5. Chapter 5

Draco took off his cloak and knelt down next to Potter, "We've only got half a kilometer to the castle, get up you sodding blighter. I'm not about to carry you." No response came from Harry's prone form. Draco carefully wrapped Harry in his cloak and lifted him up, held him close for warmth and began the slow trek up to the school.

On the front steps Madam pomfrey and Snape waited, a frigid wind bit into their faces. Poppy stood on her tip toes squinting into the distance anxiously awaiting the boys' arrival. Only an hour earlier Poppy had been in the hospital wing taking inventory when she got the news. Dumbledore had wandered in, "Poppy you have a good supply of warm blankets and you're ready for all circumstances, yes?"

Without looking up from counting vials of potion she replied, "Of course, I always-"

"You'll be needing everything shortly, Young Mister Potter is expected back soon." He seemingly paid no attention while she gaped at him in disbelief. "Meet Severus at the entrance once you've gathered everything up." And he left.

Seconds passed as she gathered her wits, Dumbledore had gone before she could send a barrage of questions his way. Nearly three months had passed since Harry had vanished, 83 days to be exact; many had feared that he was no longer alive. Pomfrey knew he was a resilient young man, but three months by himself against all odds? She had been concerned as well, and couldn't imagine what state he'd be arriving in.

Her medibag was at the ready, having completed inventory on it earlier, she then grabbed several blankets and her wand and dashed out of the infirmary.

And so they waited, Silence rung out between her and Snape, it was a very professional relationship they shared; one of potions user and supplier. Through the drifting snow figures appeared in the distance. "Is that them do you suppose Severus?" Excitement and worry underlined her words, "Oh goodness, it has to be. Grab the blankets won't you," Poppy left no time for Snape to reply as she bounded off to meet Harry.

"Bloody woman," he scoffed under his breath. Snape was not a fan of exuberance, nor enthusiasm. Excitement was the bane of his existence. He picked up the blankets and began after her.

Reaching the boys first Pomfrey was alarmed to see Draco, "What is wrong with him?" She screeched, "put him down, put him down. What have you done?"

Severus chimed in for the first time, "Malfoy hasn't done anything," Turning to Draco he instructed, "don't set him down out here in the snow, I don't know what she is thinking." He draped a blanket over Draco's shoulders, "You apparently have lost your senses as well. Why weren't you levitating him?"

Draco stared back blankly, he had no idea why he hadn't just used magic.

Snape wasted no time whipping out his want and taking the burden of Harry's weight from Draco's arms with a fast wingardium leviosa.

"Oh, yes, don't just stand around. Let's get going." Pomfrey said after she came to her senses while they walked she cast numerous diagnostic spells and did what she could to help Harry en route. As a group the four made it back to the castle.

Back up in the infirmary Dumbledore and McGonagall had arrived and sat patiently. The headmaster insisted that they should wait there instead of rushing to meet everyone along the way. "It would only delay them, it is better for us to wait here."

It wasn't long before the doors burst open and Pomfrey was shouting orders. "Severus, put him on that bed right there," waving her hand toward the closest one. "I need the Murtlap essence from the bottom shelf near the window Malfoy. And the jar of yellow paste to the left. In my office there is a large bottle of platelet replenisher, I'll need that too."

Harry was in poor condition, three broken ribs, ulcers, quite a few cuts and scrapes some of which were infected, several burns, and his clavical had been broken and knit together poorly.

Malfoy hurried over with the potions, while Pomfrey stood over harry, casting spell after spell. "Give him two capfuls of the platet replenisher," she ordered.

He opened the tall rectangular bottle and filled the cap with the green liquid, citrus scent filled the room. He parted Harry's lips with his fingers and cupped his hand under Harry's chin and was pouring the liquid into his mouth when Snape snatched it out of his hand, "You're doing it wrong, you have to raise his head first." The potion's master took over.

Draco took a seat on the adjacent bed, and stared at the scene next to him. _What now?_ Was all he could think, _I wonder if my father knows yet._ Dejected and confused he rested his head on his hands and stared at the tile floor.


End file.
